


But It's My Birthday

by Gemini_00



Series: Batfamily Shorts [21]
Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), Batman and the Signal (Comics), Catwoman (Comics)
Genre: Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Angst and Fluff, Bruce Wayne Feels, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Bruce Wayne's Sad Backstory, Dad Bruce Wayne, Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Morning Cuddles, POV Bruce Wayne, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 23:58:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17877248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gemini_00/pseuds/Gemini_00
Summary: Bruce Wayne has never enjoyed his birthday. He decides to change that.





	But It's My Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday Bruce Wayne
> 
> Please support this wonderful Batfamily/Redhood fan series where I've gathered my inspiration for Damian Wayne and Jason Todd. Seriously they are Ismahawk level good  
> https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCq-0ZJeZQ99fS8CiF6nBlgg
> 
> and please support their Kickstart by donating even a dollar and share with your friends! They need it or we won't get a season two
> 
> http://bit.ly/redhoods2

Since his parents passing, Bruce has hated his birthday. He never wanted to celebrate it. Always hid in his room during it besides the birthday gala and ending it with the lonely patrol. But for the first time in years, the urge to destroy Gotham isn’t as prevalent. He feels two warm bodies next to him. Selina and Cassandra, the girl returned to Gotham at midnight.

 

The manor is full; Alfred, Jason, Damian, Dick, Barbara, Stephanie, Duke and Tim.

 

They were all alos here. Even the other members have wished him a ‘Happy Birthday’ and ‘I’m here if you need me’ as if they know the night of his birth was also the worst of his night. Once was. Then Jason died, Talia killed his baby boy, Dick had been beaten to a pulp, Stephanie died, Cassandra had gone missing and died. But Bruce got lucky, his family for the most part returned to him. His family that he rarely spent his birthday with.

 

He crept downstairs, letting them both rest. The smell of tofu bacon and omelette filled his nostrils but the manor remained silent. Only the quiet butler was up preparing breakfast. His jaw nearly dropped at the sight of the man, waking up for breakfast on his birthday.

 

“Morning Alfred,” Bruce smiled, “How was your sleep?”

 

“Are you feeling well, Master Bruce?” He asked, “I’m surprised to see you up.”

 

“I wanted to see you before the others,” Bruce nodded, “I was thinking we could have those pancakes mother used to make the ones with all the sugar and chocolate chips. The whip cream on top.”

 

Alfred seemed to gather his shock with a scowl on his face, “Master Bruce, surely you don’t mean I make that heart attack monstrosity after slaving away to make you all a proper breakfast.”

 

Bruce smiled, “But it’s my Birthday.”

 

“I suppose it is.”

 

 

  
  


The shock continued for the rest of the family that made their way down. Bruce Wayne up before noon, out in the open with a smile on his face as he consumed the sugary breakfast. On his Birthday, the day his parents died.

 

They chose to all ignore it, giving him a ‘Happy Birthday’ and returning to their own sugary breakfast. They discussed the day away and thoughts of tonight’s gala which they all dreaded going too. 

 

“You’re going to W.E?” Bruce asked, “For the Japanese deal?”

 

“Yeah. It’ll be quick. I’ll be back before the gala,” Tim told him.

 

Tim Translation: I’ll be fine for patrol.

 

But Tim had yet to ever really go into business with Tim. He’d rather spend the afternoon with his son than sit around in the way or go last minute gala shopping with the girls, “I’ll come with. There is not a single reason they could say no to both of us.”

 

The whole table eyed eachother with suspicion, “ I’m honestly fine Bruce. I can handle it.”

 

“We can get lunch and-”

 

“B, I got this. Don’t worry about it. You should relax,” Tim told him, “I’m being serious. Stay here.”

 

“But it’s my birthday,” Bruce pouted. And the Birthday boy always got his way.

 

 

  
  


Bruce can’t remember the last time he took a nap without exhaustion or healing coming into play. So when he sit in his father’s large chair, he lets thoughts of sleep pattern through his brain. He lets Damian’s (could be Selina’s) stupid cat pounce on his lap and purr obnoxiously on his lap.

 

There’s a little pitter patter of feet, still it sounded nearly like a march.  _ Damian. _

 

Bruce lets himself still, fake sleep so well that even Damian won’t notice when he walks into the room to get his stupid cat, “Alfred, you mustn't wake father.”

 

Damian goes to grab his cat off his father’s lap when Bruce grabs him by the underarms. Damian yells a warrior calls when he launches at the man in surprise. If Bruce hadn’t dodged the hit to his throat, his vocal cords would have been beyond damage. Once again, Bruce’s darkened thoughts ruin whatever peaceful vision he once held of Talia. What used to threaten his son that this would be the reaction?

 

“Father-” Damian wide panicked eyes take over, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean too. I just-”

 

Bruce calmly ran his hand through the dark black hair. It was always softer than anybody expected it to be, with large green eyes that would always wait for that hand to do more than gentle comfort. Bruce no longer wanted to have a restful nap but rather embrace his youngest in warmth and safety.

 

“Let’s go to sleep, Damian,” Bruce told him, “Just for a bit until I go to lunch with Tim.”

 

“Father,” Damian looked sheepish, “I don’t want people to think me weak or you soft by  _ canoodling _ in some rocking chair like an infant. No, we should-”

 

“But it’s my birthday,” Bruce played. One birthday, all those years ago had ruined any celebration, therefore Bruce doesn’t mind playing the card. Nor does he feel guilty when Damian’s little body begrudgingly settles close to his. Because Damian is not tense or ready to attack but relaxed and safe. And alive. 

 

“Happy Birthday, Father,” Damian whispered.

 

 

  
  


Duke could sneak food into their house better than anyone. The damn Batman did not understand how the teen managed to get Big Belly Burger past the butler. But there he sat at the  _ other  _ kitchen’s counter digging into the take out like the disgusting teenage boy he was. There was food covering his face and slipping out his fingers and-

 

Bruce slammed the silverware down in front of the daytime vigilante, “Use it.”

 

“Bruce-”

 

“It’s my birthday,” Bruce begged because teenage boys were disgusting.

 

 

  
  


Bruce did alot of things wrong in his life. He had a hard time admitting it to others, but he could admit it to himself. He could admit that he owed Stephanie so much. And though he may be unable to bring himself to admit all fault, to sob about how sorry he was that she’d been hurt in his crusade, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be better to her now.

 

“What do you need, B?” She asked in his office, “I was told you had a suprise for me. Which you shouldn’t because It’s your birthday and-”

 

God, she could talk.

 

“Stephanie. It’s my birthday. Please let me talk,” He interrupted her.

 

“Right, sorry. It’s just you called me into your office and not  _ the  _ office and I just- Oh, and I’m doing it again. I’ll just be quiet.”

 

“Sit, Stephanie,” He ushered her this way. She did, looking at the blank computer screen, “I admit I’ve been selfish in controlling and influencing people. I know that you don’t think you want to see this. But you should.”

 

“This isn’t some weird vine that I know I don’t want to see, is it?” She raised her eyebrow.

 

He shook his head before pulling up the screen. The baby girl on the page was being raised by a nice philanthropist type family, far from Gotham where Bruce Wayne would always be able to see. The baby was named Violet and she had beautiful bright eyes with dirty blonde pigtails. She was a dead ringer for the girl next to him.

 

“I told them she was named Violet,” He told her, “I thought you would like it.”

 

“Is that-” Stephanie’s eyes were watering up. Her heart was probably swollen, “She’s so perfect. I didn’t think I’d ever want to see this- but-”

 

“You always needed to,” He nodded. She stared at him with huge blue eyes of a daughter that is his in all but name.

 

“Why?” She asked.

 

“Because I would want to know if it were him,” Bruce nodded to the photo of Damian and Titus on the desk, “Stephanie from one parent to another, I trust you would never let him know. But if I knew of Damian all those years ago, I would save him from this life. I like to think that I’d be as brave as you. I’d have to be. But I’d have to know. I’d need to atleast see him.”

 

“Happy Birthday, Bruce,” She smiled with tears but her eyes stayed glued to that screen. To her little girl.

 

 

  
  


“Bruce, the children are right downstairs!” Selina shrieked as he closed in on her. He was kissing her neck, her face, her exposed breast, “We can’t just-”

 

“But it’s my birthday,” He grinned.

 

 

  
  


Bruce can admit that he at moments in sentimental. Not often. Not always. Certainly not with villians. But his children. His girl. His butler. They make him want more than just the darkness. He searches for the light and he always seemed to find that with his first Robin and Batgirl. The two stared at him.

 

“You want us to take it, in case you-”

 

“Alfred and I can’t be around forever,” Bruce told him, “This house is yours. The next generation needs somewhere to stay.”

 

“B, I can’t just own the manor. This is your home,” Dick shook his head.

 

“But it’s my birthday,” Bruce frowned.

  
  
  


 

Cassandra looked beautiful wearing the white gown to the black and white gala for Brucie Wayne’s birthday. Where the rest of the family opted for black, she took the beautiful white evening gown. There was just one thing missing.

 

The Martha Wayne pearls had been for the most part found and waiting in a safe locked place. At one time, Bruce thought they belonged around the neck of Silver St. Cloud. Or maybe on a ring for Talia al Ghul. Possibly Barbara Gordon or Selina Kyle. But this was his daughter. His only legal daughter. Cassandra  _ Martha  _ Cain- Wayne.

 

“Dad, no!” Cassandra shook her head at them. Her eyes were so fearful. His delicate angel.

 

“Someone needs to wear them,” He told her, “I need  _ my daughter  _ to wear them.”

 

“But-”

 

“But it’s my Birthday,” He smiled. She tentatively gave up and turned around. For once, the pearls weren’t so painful to look at.

 

 

  
  
  


He stared at the tombstones in his yard, it was nearly one and the party finally died down enough to leave. After all, Batman had a city to guard. But Bruce had parents to mourn. Even though he’d changed over the years. Even though his children’s hearts all beat, his fiance lays in his bed, and his father figure lives- Bruce’s parents still lie in the ground six feet under.

 

“Figured that I’d find you here,” Jason sighed, “Can I join ya’ old man?”

 

Bruce nodded, his third child stood next to him. The boy always reminded him of his mother more than any of them. A lifetime ago, Martha Wayne sung happy birthday to him, another life time ago the second Robin sung happy birthday to him. It had been a long time since the tune had been sung to Bruce with a lowly and beautiful voice by someone he loved.

 

“Do you still sing, Jay?” Bruce asked. He could picture Martha’s arms wrapped around his third. Both gently humming the melody, such a dream it would be.

 

“Not in a while,” Jason answered. That wasn’t true. Bruce had heard Jason hum a tune with Cassandra showing her those stupid alternative bands he was fond of pre- crowbar. He’d heard the boy sing softly while Stephanie or Tim lied in recovery. He’d heard Jason sing a arabian lullaby to his youngest brother who’d been hit with fear toxin. What Bruce wanted to know was if Jason would still sing for him.

 

“Please Jason,” He asked, “Just once for your old man.”

 

“I’m rusty,” Jason scratched his head.

 

“But it’s my birthday,” Bruce almost whispered.

 

In the midst of Jason’s lovely low baritone, Bruce could swear that he heard Martha Wayne’s soft soprano.  Even a little of Thomas Wayne’s off key singing. Selina Kyle’s seductive purr. Dick Grayson’s loud and horrendous singing that they all smiled at. Alfred Pennyworth’s british accent. Cassandra Cain and Tim Drake’s soft humming. Barbara Gordon’s pretty laugh. Stephanie Brown’s embarrassing snort. Damian Wayne’s arabian term of endearment. It was the best sound he ever dreamt.

 

Happy Birthday Bruce Wayne, maybe he doesn’t deserve it. But he has one anyways.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Sorry I'm late. Also it is crunch time for the Red Hood Fan Series. I'm taking some request for the searches involving Damian and/or Jason in hopes that my lovely readers will donate to their kick start!!! It's almost the deadline boys and girls. I highly recommend you guys getting some kickass bat fam fluff that they produce. So please recommend and please support them!
> 
> Please support this wonderful Batfamily/Redhood fan series where I've gathered my inspiration for Damian Wayne and Jason Todd. Seriously they are Ismahawk level good  
> https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCq-0ZJeZQ99fS8CiF6nBlgg
> 
> and please support their Kickstart by donating even a dollar and share with your friends! They need it or we won't get a season two
> 
> http://bit.ly/redhoods2
> 
> Comments make the world go round.


End file.
